No Win Situations
by gingerbritishgypsyelf
Summary: Another plot bunny infested fic where Jack and Renee get into a tight spot. Post-8 and very vague because...well...plot bunnies don't actually give plots. Rated T as a precaution for violence. There will probably be 3 chapters.
1. WarmUp

No-Win Situations

The air smelled like soot and gunpowder with a sharp tang of metal, and the brick walls of the alley were dirty and sprayed with blood. There was no way that they could make it; not even Jack Bauer could save them now. But Renee leaned from behind the metal dumpster she was using as cover and fired two more shots. There was a gargling cry and soft thump as the man she had double-tapped in the chest fell onto the dusty pavement.

Jack looked over at her, and he slid another round into his Glock, aimed, and fired three shots, rapid fire. He indicated his pocket and held up three fingers. Three more rounds. Renee checked her pocket; two. She showed two fingers, and the old Renee in a flash briefly thought of how her two fingers once would have meant V for victory. New Renee, broken Renee, trying-to-stay-alive Renee, shut off the ironic thought and fired again.

"How many?" she whispered across to Jack. Reading her lips, he held up his fingers, using both hands to indicate the number, and her stomach sank. Eight. And they had semi-automatic weapons.

If this was a romantic movie, they'd go in, guns blazing, and have one final, passionate kiss before reinforcements magically appeared and took them out. But it wasn't a romantic movie, no one knew where they were, and Renee and Jack had more important things on their minds than hormone-fueled kisses—like not getting shot. She leaned around and fired again, aiming at the man positioned on the balcony. Four shots. One caught his arm and they could hear his cry of pain as he dropped his weapon, cradled his arm. Jack took him out with one more shot. Seven to go.

A grating noise came from behind them, metal on cement. Jack swore and aimed his gun at the hand lifting the sewer grate. A smiling face popped out—Josh Curtis, an ally. Perhaps it was in the cards for them to survive after all. Another man climbed out after him.

"You have any more ammo?" Jack asked as Josh scampered over to him, taking cover behind Jack's dumpster. Josh grinned infectiously and held up a messenger-style bag. It was full of unused clips of ammunition.

Jack almost smiled, and nodded across to Renee as Josh set down the bag. She didn't smile either, but she looked a lot less worried, he noted. The other man stood next to her with a similar bag, also full of ammunition. She fired several shots around the corner and turned back to find a hot metal barrel in her face.

"What the—" Renee began, but the man disarmed her and had her in a headlock before the sentence was even finished. The barrel was pressed to her throat, and she could feel her skin heating up where it was touching the barrel. Probably first degree burns. Jack looked over at her and stopped dead.

"Josh, isn't that guy with you?"

"Yeah," Josh replied, looking bored, waiting for the light bulb to turn on. It did.

He was pinned to the brick wall and Jack had a gun over his heart. "You tell him to let her go. Now." He jabbed the barrel into the man's ribs for effect. Josh just grinned his infectious grin.

"Can't do that, Jack. There are a few members of the US government who paid me too well to worry about bullet wounds. Besides, you kill me, he kills her. All we want to do is talk."

"I don't have anything to say to you."

"You will."

Josh issued a series of shrill whistle bursts and the gunfire stopped.

"Drop me now, Jack. Or your FBI call girl over there gets a hollow point through her jugular. Not a pretty sight."

Jack hesitated, then released him.

"Better. Now give me your gun. On the ground." Jack obeyed, barely concealing his fury.

"Traitor," he growled.

"Businessman," Josh corrected. "Hey, Lu, let up on her windpipe. She's turning a little blue."

Lu loosened his grip, then easily handcuffed Renee, hands in front, and Josh did the same for Jack.

"Come on, you've got a ladder to climb."

They descended into the sewer, the lid slid back into place. As a man drinking Starbucks on his way to a meeting passed by, he thought he heard a clink, and looked over briefly. The alley was empty.

* * *

The sewers were dark, wet, and full of an absolutely horrible smell. Chunks of unidentifiable semi-solids floated in the murky brown water, visible only by the flashlights that both men held. Jack and Renee walked on, Jack in front, Renee behind, both between the two men. Jack held back a gag and heard Renee swallow as her gag reflex jerked.

"Raw sewage," Josh commented lightly, as though on the weather, or the best gun for a long-range shoot-off. "Hope none of you have open wounds. It could get really nasty there."

"The company suits the environment," quipped Renee darkly, and the man in back jabbed her sharply with his pistol.

"You wanna eat the sewage, FBI? Shut it."

Renee didn't bother to mention that she had quit the FBI a while back, after…well she wasn't prepared to think back on that. What was important now was the mission at hand—escaping. She reached her hands forward and held onto Jack's belt from behind. The man behind her gave her another jab.

"Should'a gotten into his pants earlier, when you had the chance, FBI." Renee let go of the belt after another blow. In front of her, she could see Jack's back tense. She knew he hated not being able to do anything and that every ounce of his self control was keeping him from turning around and trying to take out the man, though he was handcuffed, and their guard was armed. Renee herself was having a hard time being hit, it reminded her too much of her Russian experience. She gritted her teeth and took it.

"Where are you taking us?"

"Aw, Jack. You're such a spoilsport, always wanting to ruin the surprise. Have some fun with it, let life throw things your way."

Jack didn't say anything, merely snorted angrily. Josh grinned at him over his shoulder.

"No one likes a sourpuss, Jack-y boy."

"And no one likes an idiot either, but you seem to be doing fine," Renee muttered. That earned her another blow, even though Josh chuckled.

"You sure can pick 'em, Bauer. Pretty and with a sense of humor. And she can shoot a gun too! I'd take her from you, but you know how I prefer blondes."

They walked on until they reached a junction. Josh turned left and out of nowhere was a metal door, stuck into the wall in a haphazard fashion. It was rusty iron and covered in dirt, grime, and sewage. Josh kicked it three times, then pressed one of the bolts of the door. It swung inward and onto plastic grating. Showerheads hung from the ceiling. Josh hit a switch and freezing water poured from the heads. Stepping out of the way, Josh rinsed off his boots and moved out of the reach of the spray. The other man followed suit. Jack and Renee got soaked quickly, and Renee held her jaw so her teeth didn't chatter. Josh hit the switch again.

"Was that necessary?" he asked no one in particular, then, answering himself, "Yeah, it was. Really improves conduction if we decide to run some electricity through them." Lu chuckled and gave Josh an affectionate whack on the back.

"It's a good thing you're paying me for this. You're one crazy son-of-a-gun."

"And you're…" Josh looked him up and down. "Well…let's not go into that."

He casually pointed the gun at Jack. "Come on Jacky. We're off to meet the man of the hour."Renee made to follow, but Josh shook his head and indicated Lu.

"Sorry babe, you're staying. Lu would get lonely otherwise."

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but Renee shook her head first. "I want to go with Jack."

"Oh I'm sorry, were you under the impression I cared?" With a cheerful smile, Josh backhanded her so hard she stumbled back. "I would ask you to go make me a sandwich, but that would be terribly cliché. See you in a bit, Walker. Lu." With a nod of his head, he and Jack walked away.

* * *

Honestly, all Renee wanted to do was scream Jack's name, but it wouldn't help anything. As she turned to look at Lu, she saw the pipe coming at her head. She ducked, but not quite fast enough because her world went black.

When she came to, Renee was secured to a chair by a thick wire and a buzzing sound could be heard from the little electrical generator. She was sitting in a metal chair and there was a sprinkler head above her. This wasn't looking good.

"I'm not telling you anything," she informed Lu.

"No, but your boyfriend will once you start screaming. He was trying to get us to let you go. What'd he think we were? Stupid?"

Renee wasn't really sure that boyfriend was the sort of word used to describe Jack, but she really didn't have a word for their relationship, so she let it slide.

In the office, Jack scowled at the balding man sitting in the chair. He was quite tall and looked frail, but in his eyes glinted a spark of both strength and malice.

"Why." It wasn't a question, not really. It was an accusation.

"Revenge," the man replied simply.

"For what? What could possibly convince you to betray your country?"

"Betray my country? My country betrayed me. I used to be a fine soldier, and then do you know what they did? Dishonorable discharge."

"What'd they discharge you for."

"I killed a traitor, and they found him to be innocent and me, guilty."

Jack didn't say anything, merely waited. The man was a narcissist, and the grand plan of his would come out quickly.

"So shall I tell you my plans, Mr. Bauer? I'm going to kill you anyway, and I need someone to appreciate my brilliance."

As Josh opened his mouth to protest, the man silenced him with a wave of his hand.

"Joshua, you may amuse me, but you are no genius, and your associate has less class than a low-paid call girl. Mr. Bauer has saved our nation many times and he alone can truly understand my brilliance. So, Mr. Bauer, have a seat. I plan to start an international conflict, and I'd like your opinion on it."

Jack sat, his mouth a tight line and his face a mask. The man introduced himself as Mozart, and refused to be called anything else, explaining Mozart was a genius and that they shared a bloodline. His plan unfolded quite brilliantly, though Jack hated to admit it. It took about an hour and several diagrams to explain, and once he was done, Mozart rolled up his sleeves and smiled at Jack.

"Now let's find out what you know."

Jack was dragged to a viewing room and it looked into a room where Renee sat, bound and gagged, to a metal chair. There was a table in the room covered in various tools, and a small electrical generator.

"Please sit, Mr. Bauer. We have some questions for you. First of all, what is the procedure for the evacuation of the President? We know it was reviewed with you earlier today."

"I don't know the procedure," Jack replied steadily. Mozart pressed a button on the wall and Lu, whom was sitting in the room, looked up. A red light on the wall of the other room was on, catching his attention. He smiled and attached a clamp to one of the chair's legs. Mozart pressed the button twice, light on, light off, and Lu grinned and attached the other clamp to another leg. She screamed and began to convulse violently. Mozart hit the button again. Lu removed the clamp.

"Now, Mr. Bauer let us try this again. What are the protocols?"

"I'm telling you I don't know. Please, stop hurting her, I don't know them. I wasn't at the meeting. I was at CTU."

"Hmmm, I think not." Red light on. Clamp.

Renee screamed and shook as though having a seizure. Her screams were desperate, almost animal. Words could not define them, and as Jack watched, each scream pierced him like a dagger and twisted slowly. Light off. Unclamp.

"Hmm, perhaps this is not effective enough. Lu enjoys knives." He pressed the intercom, "Luis, I believe you have a razor blade?"

The other man's grin was feral and his eyes gleamed with something that turned Jack's stomach—enjoyment. He was enjoying hurting Renee.

"You may use that as you wish. Nothing that will make her bleed out, though." Mozart looked over at Jack. "Where do you think he'll cut her first, Mr. Bauer? Luis favors women, you know. He says it's because they're so tender."

Jack leapt from his chair and tried to hit Mozart, but Josh caught him and shoved him back into the chair.

"Jacky boy, we have things to do." Mozart hit the button and Lu reverently ran a finger down Renee's neck. He undid her ties and used the cord to hold her handcuffs to a hook on the ceiling. Slowly he peeled up her shirt and slid his finger down her spine. He stopped halfway down and drew a line with his razor. Renee didn't scream, but in the mirror, Jack could see her expression—empty, dark, alone…afraid.

"Stop," he whispered hoarsely. "Please, torture me instead."

"Oh Mr. Bauer," Mozart replied affectionately, "We are."

At that moment, the door was kicked in, and a very serious looking man stood in the doorway holding a pistol. A sniper rifle hung across his body.

"Hey Bauer, you could'a called." Jack looked up at his second in command, then stood and hit Mozart's button. Lu looked up, disappointed, and stopped drawing the red line across Renee's pale skin. Jack could see her shaking, and his face dropped the mask and pain washed over his features. Elliot, Jack's second, cuffed Mozart. And then Josh bolted.

Elliot paused, looked over at Jack. He nodded and Elliot fired. Josh tumbled, blood pouring from his leg. Elliot fished a key out of Mozart's pocket and undid Jack's cuffs. Jack ran into the other room and threw open the door. Lu looked up, surprised, just in time to see Jack's fist collide with his face. He was out cold.

"Renee," he breathed, and he unhooked her, unlocked the handcuffs. She fell into his arms, gasping for air in gulps that sounded like suppressed sobs. Her back was bleeding and Jack tore a strip of Lu's shirt with the razor and used it to stop the bleeding. Another strip held it in place, ties around her ribs.

Elliot walked in. "You know, that whole microchip thing was a great idea. You're a lot smarter than you let on, Boss."

Jack didn't have time to smile, he was too busy cradling Renee, stroking her hair. And the words fell freely from his lips, whispered again and again.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

* * *

As they left the underground hideout, Renee followed Jack. CTU agents were in Mozart's 'hall' detaining the three monsters within. Still wet from their abrupt shower, Jack and Renee climbed into the back of an ambulance. Jack had refused to be separated from Renee, and she had practically taken out one of the EMPs who tried to take her away from Jack. He was wrapped in a towel, she covered in blankets.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to her. She reached an arm up to touch his face and he knelt next to her.

"I don't blame you, Jack."

"I do. It was my fault."

"It was me or your country. I would never ask you to make that decision."

Jack shook his head.

"I love you, Jack."

"I love you too."

He held her hand as the sirens screamed above them, and he did not leave her side. Not for anything.

**I DO have a multi-chapter thing planned, but for now, here is a peace offering. Plot bunny junk I know, and it is NOT my best work, but there were….so many bunnies…**

**Review me please, it keeps me going.**


	2. Symphony

Symphony

Renee was sent to the burns unit for the electrical burns from the makeshift electrical chair that Lu had put her through. The main ones were on the backs of her thighs, but also on her wrists and back. Her clothes in those places were singed, even charred in some places. On her back, there was a hole burned through both her jacket and shirt. Not to mention she needed stitches for both the blow to her head—two—and more on her back from the razor cuts—seventeen.

"You're a mess," one nurse told her with a grin. Jack barely resisted telling her to shut up—just barely. Renee forced a smile, and squeezed Jack's hand.

"It'll be okay." They had to take turns being the strong one.

Renee's doctor decided to put her out for the removal of dead skin from her electrical burns. The pain would be unbearable, especially for someone whom had already had a total of nineteen stitches and according to her record, a history of suicide attempts.

The nurse came over. "We're going to put you out for this, all right Ms. Walker?

"No," Renee said, a note of panic coming into her voice. "Don't put me out."

"Ms. Walker, the pain will be agonizing to say the least. We have to put you out."

"No," Renee repeated, her voice already rising a note. Jack put a hand on each side of her face.

"Look at me, Renee." She stopped, took a breath, looked into his face. She was trembling slightly. "I need you to do this."

"Jack, I don't want to."

"I know, but listen. I don't think I can watch this happen to you." A note of pleading entered his voice as well. "Please, Renee. Do this. Do it for me."

She swallowed, looked into his eyes, "I don't want to Jack."

"Please. I'll be here the very second you wake up, okay?"

She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Okay."

"It'll be all right, Renee. I promise."

"Okay." She nodded. The nurse injected the drug into Renee's IV tube. Jack lay in her hospital bed next to her, silencing a protesting nurse with a glare.

"I'm right here," he whispered to Renee. She nodded slowly, her eyelids beginning to droop. "It's okay, Renee. Just let go. You'll be all right." He pressed his lips to her forehead, and it was the last thing she remembered as she drifted into black unconsciousness.

As Jack paced in the hall, his phone rang.

"Bauer."

"Boss, we've got a problem."

"Elliot, what is it?"

"Mozart got away."

"What?" Jack hissed, furious. "How?"

"I don't know. I turned around for maybe two minutes to take a call and when I turned back around, the two buffoons were there, but no Mozart."

"All right. I'm recording his plans as we speak. Once I'm finished, they'll be sent to CTU and we can get this done. Call the director and inform him of the update. And send Team Four out looking for Mozart. He can't have gotten far. Get a map of the sewers and go through them."

"Copy."

"Out." Jack hit the off button and swore. The clock in Renee's room ticked and Jack wrote Mozart's plans on a legal pad. An hour passed, then two. He finished his statement, had it sent, and waited. Another hour passed before Renee was wheeled back into her room. She was bandaged almost everywhere, it seemed. Her head lolled to one side, blank and asleep.

"When should she come to?"

"Maybe half an hour."

Jack sat next to her bed, gently stroking her hand. He traced circles on her pale skin with his fingers, stroked her palms with his thumbs. Twenty minutes passed before she stirred.

"Jack?" she mumbled sleepily.

"I'm right here, Renee."

"Okay," she drifted back into unconsciousness. This happened three or four times in the next hour and Jack was always there. The second time, he hung up on the president so he could be with her as she blearily came to. An hour passed before she was lucid.

"Jack?"

"I'm here."

"What did the doctors say? Am I all right?"

"You're gonna be okay." His mind flashed back to hours before, when he had watched rivulets of blood trace tiny rivers down her back, unable to stop it. He pushed it back, determined to stay in the present.

"And the burns?"

"You won't need any skin grafts, but you'll have those bandages for probably two weeks. And it's going to hurt. A lot."

"Pain is just weakness leaving the body," Renee grunted sarcastically.

"Is that what they teach you in FBI school?"

"That and how to shoot your partner if he gets too annoying."

"Ah. I can see how that would be useful."

"It might if you decide to annoy me."

His phone warbled and Jack pressed his Bluetooth.

"Bauer."

"We found where Mozart was, Boss. There was a note for us. And a body."

"What did the note say?"

"You've only heard the allegro."

"What's an allegro?"

"Traditionally, the beginning part of a symphony…according to the internet anyway."

"Great. There's more to come. And whose body was it?"

"We don't know."

"Well, find out Elliot. We're running out of time."

Jack waited with Renee. And waited. They talked some of the time, were silent the rest. He only left her to fetch non-hospital food and to use the facilities. Days passed as CTU decrypted files, followed leads. Nothing required Jack's attention. It took a week before the hospital decided Renee was ready to leave. Jack could count on one hand the number of times he had been happier than the moment the nurse brought him the release forms. Her stitches had been removed from her forehead and the doctor said that there would be minimal to no scarring. They scheduled a return appointment to remove the stitches on her back and to look at her burns within a few days.

They climbed into a black CTU SUV and drove back to headquarters. Jack was all for getting Renee to her apartment, but she steadfastly insisted in going to CTU. They arrived to hundreds of people running to and fro, a giant layout of Mozart's plan on the wall with parts circled, crossed out, and color-coded. Computer keys clacked in the background and Director Frost watched it all from his glass office, as he talked on the phone with the CIA head.

Jack was sent to Frost's office, with Renee following.

"Jack. Good to see you back. And you too Renee. How're you doing?"

"Fine," she replied. "What're our leads?"

Jacob Frost smiled, indicating the diagram projected onto the wall. "We're following several at the moment. Elliot's doing really well as your sub, Jack. I'm thinking when this is all over, I'll make him leader of one of the teams. Six, I think."

"He's a good man and a good soldier. Now what can we do to help?"

Renee loved that he said 'we'. Not I, we. He was not sheltering her, as he so often did, and as he looked over at her, making sure it was okay that he was doing this, she smiled at him. She needed to work, to be useful.

"Jack, I want you directing team eight from here, and Renee, we have some intel we'd like you to appraise.

They both nodded, and Director Frost indicated a side room. Renee sat down at a computer and Jack at the one next to her. He rested a warm hand on her knee as she typed in her security code, then pulled on a headset and they got to work.

* * *

Mozart smiled as he twisted the final two wires together. It was always a good idea to make a bang as your first impression. He set a timer on his little bomb and slipped it into a bag. Up ahead, the Supreme Court loomed. How he loved situational irony.

There were many things Mozart had planned for—the case, the date, even how to get past security. He had not planned for the judge whom had condemned him into exile to have been out sick with a nasty cold. He wheeled into the Supreme Court in a wheelchair. The bomb was in a bag in what appeared to all others to be a bedpan. He was patted down gently by a security guard, then allowed to go in.

He wheeled down the corridor and checked the time on his watch. He pressed a button on the side, as though to illuminate the dial. The power in the building shut down. As backup generators began to hum, Mozart hit another button on his watch. Within seconds, the backup generators were down as well. He wheeled down to the main court and stood, pushed open the door, and removed the bomb from his bedpan. He tucked it in a trash basket in one corner and crept out. He had hundreds of pictures of this room and knew exactly what to do. Panicked voices were demanding to know what was going on and people had their cell phones out for light. The security officer was so busy restraining an angry plaintiff that he didn't even notice Mozart creeping out. The only person who saw him was an elderly woman who wondered quietly to herself if he had fixed the fuses.

When the power returned, the security guards found the old man wheeling out the door, muttering about modern conveniences being the death of them all. They dismissed him easily and Mozart took the Metro to another DC station, covering his face with the hood of a windbreaker and walking with a limp.

At exactly half-past three in the afternoon, a courtroom of the Supreme Court containing three justices talking during an unexpected recess, exploded. All three men were killed instantly and when the news came on half an hour later, Mozart cursed the heavens for a good twenty minutes. The man he had targeted was not in the room. He was alive. His plan had failed…but he still had lots to go on.

* * *

At CTU, Jack gave another order, Renee read another page.

"Salto, Ferris, Lucro, Banks—left side of the building. Reynolds, Jansen, get the roof. The rest of you go through the main entrance. Move."

"Copy," ten voices said in near-unison. Jack nodded. Next to him, Renee double-clicked a sentence and re-read it.

"This intel is good. They know a lot of key pieces of information." She showed Jack the sentences she'd highlighted throughout the documents. "Piece it all together and you've got the makings of an excellent informant. We want to follow this lead. They've worked with Mozart before and if we can get a deal with him…or her…then we've got a much better chance of finding him.

Jack nodded and absently traced designs on Renee's knee. She shivered a little and suppressed a smile. Static came in on his comm. Leaving one hand on her knee, he pressed the button on his mike.

"This is Bauer, come in eight. Over."

More static.

"Bauer to Salto. Come in Salto. Ferris? Lucro? Banks?" He called all the names. More static.

"Something's not right. Someone get me Chloe."

Renee pressed a button on the phone on the desk, dialed the extension. "Chloe? Jack needs you here now. We just lost contact with all of team eight. And bring Frances."

"Got it. Be right there."

Chloe arrived within a manner of seconds, with a black woman right behind. Frances grinned in a friendly manner at Renee. It had puzzled Jack and Renee to no end that somehow bouncy, happy-go-lucky Frances would get along so well with straightforward, blunt Chloe, but something about the pair clicked and they made an excellent team. Not to mention that Frances was one of the few people who could keep up with Chloe and simultaneously not be offended or annoyed by her.

Frances slid a rolling chair in next to Renee and began to type furiously at the keys. She was still smiling and hummed as she worked, her fingers flying. Chloe had already taken her place at Jack's computer and the pair were a duo of clacking computer keys. Jack and Renee stood side by side behind them, letting the techies do their jobs. Renee's hand drifted over to brush Jack's thigh and he held her hand. When he looked over into her face, scabs from her blow to the head still showed. He gingerly traced the wound with one finger and Renee gently took hold of his wrist and lowered it from her cut, placed it on her cheek so his palm cradled her face.

"It wasn't your fault," she murmured too quietly for Frances and Chloe to hear. Jack nodded, and for a split second, it was almost the opposite situation that they had encountered after Renee's attack on Vladimir. Before she had been shot by that sniper, before he had come this close to losing her. Renee glanced over at Chloe and Frances, then gently brushed her lips across Jack's, in a caress so soft and brief, it tingled as the nerves reached for more. It was over only a moment after it had began, and Jack smiled faintly. Another techie walked in, and winked at Jack, flashed Renee a knowing grin. It was a man this time, wearing wire-framed glasses and with a head of explosive carrot-colored hair. He was tall, over six-three, and still had the awkwardness of a teenager. This was due to the fact that he was nineteen and CTU's resident genius.

"Thought I'd come see if I could help."

"Kyle, this really isn't a good time."

"It never is. What can I do?"

Without missing a beat, Frances said something in French and Kyle grinned widely.

"I love breaking the rules." He sat down at another chair and began typing.

**Yes, I am now aware that this is AU due to the fact that those IDIOT WRITERS FREAKING KILLED RENEE!!!! Though as a writer I understand that this is a great tool for plot development, there's always the tride-and-true coma from which she cannot wake, then miraculously does at the end. But unless they've shot the ending episodes already, Renee's gone. Annie Wersching's belly is too pregnant to play Renee any longer and have it still be plausible. Though my writer self has accepted it, my 24 fangirl still weeps openly and screams her rage to the skies. I once again apologize to my beta for not having her look over this. Plot bunnies. And I hope you all read, review, and enjoy. In my writings, Renee shall live, so fear not Renack-ers. You shall have your fluff. **


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